


I Don’t Feel So Good

by SoHoldMeTight



Category: Black Panther (2018), Doctor Strange (2016), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A lot of feels, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bucky Barnes Feels, Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, I Was Mentally Preparing Myself For The Wrong Character Deaths, I will not lie it is a sad time, Infinity War spoilers, Infinity Wars, I’m sad, Lots of Hurt Little Comfort, OCs - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony’s son, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Post Infinity Wars, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sad, Sad!Tony, Sadness, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers's Sadness Errands, Thanos’ A+ Parenting, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Worried Tony Stark, and the main issue is that he still breathes, basically Tony Stark is a very sad boy, burn in Hell Thanos, but my boys and girls are gonna make him real sad, except for Thanos because he’s garbage and thinks he did a good thing, i don’t know if people are afraid of it or something but since there are at least 122 readers, i thought I’d let you know, infinity wars whhhhhyyyyyyyy, it’s okay to leave a comment, just so you guys know, sad everybody if we’re being honest, sad!Cap, sad!Natasha, sad!Nebula, sad!Shuuri, thanos will return, that bitch gonn’ die, yeah I made that a tag I’m for real
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:50:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14519922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoHoldMeTight/pseuds/SoHoldMeTight
Summary: Takes place directly after the end of Infinity Wars.He woke with a gasp.His heart thumped against his ribs like a caged bird. His head whipped from side to side, his brown eyes roaming over the empty surroundings. For a moment he thought he was dead.The echo of his shouts reminded him of one certainty- he was alone.Thanos.





	1. The Blue Woman

He woke with a gasp.

His heart thumped against his ribs like a caged bird. His head whipped from side to side, his brown eyes roaming over the empty surroundings. For a moment he thought he was dead.

Memories trickled into his brain like a leaky pipe. His vision swam and shrunk- had he fainted? The echoes of his shouts reminded him of one certainty- he was alone.

Or so he thought.

_Thanos._

A blue woman was scowling at him- or above him, he couldn’t be sure. The red rock pressed into his temple, a reminder of his slanted view. He moaned from his twisted position on the ground.

Her black eyes were wet and shiny. He thought of Pepper’s cheeks on the morning of her mother’s death. She too had worn sad eyes and spoken with a tremble. He had held her shaking body, laid a hand over her bright hair.

But this woman had no hair.

She screamed and pulled at her hairless scalp, kicking and thrashing like a wild animal.

He felt a strange urge to hold this flickering woman in the way he had Pepper. Not for love, but for loss. Clearly something horrific had happened to this woman for her to be a victim of such hysteria.

_Bruce._

A voice in the back of his head insisted he stand, talk, do something other than waste time and lay over this rock.

He mumbled something in her direction, but her sobs stole any volume he would have possessed. Her mouth opened with another dark, lonely screech. He said nothing, his dull eyes captivated by her blue skin.

_Blue._

The press of rock against his skin was becoming uncomfortable. He moved his neck down and fixated on what he saw. Tony stared at his hands.

_Red._


	2. Mr. Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wha- what...”
> 
> His voice stuttered between uneven breaths. His hands were chalky and wet, covered in dust and smelling of iron. 
> 
> The infinity stone.

“Wha- what...”

His voice stuttered between uneven breaths. His hands were chalky and wet, covered in dust and smelling of iron.  

_The infinity stone._

Thanos, his skin the color of lavender and this woman’s the color of the sky. Color stood out in the dark sky and bleak planet. The woman was blue and his hand was red. Blue and red, blue and red, blue and red, blue and-

He gasped.

 _And then_ all _of the infinity stones._

Oh god. His stomach lurched, a sharp tug snapping his insides in half with heat and bile. He turned over, careful to avoid Pe-

He squeezed his eyes shut as his body betrayed him. In the back of his mind he searched for Peter body’s, a shock of dark hair. His inside spilled over the planet with a sick, wet, splash of rotten meats and liquid. 

Someone was touching him.

Cold hands were on his face.

His eyes snapped to the owner of these hands. He prayed for a bright grin or a squeaky voice. His throat hit the floor before his mind could appreciate the colors of her skin.

It was her, the blue woman. She whispered her name as if it were new to her as well. The very thing which defined her was now uncertain.

He could appreciate that. How did he define himself? A human, a man, a fiancé? For all he knew, Pepper could be-

His lungs pushed against him like hot pokers, burning him from the inside as he lost breath.

But he could fix this. He was a genius, yes that’s what he was! He was a genius, a master of machinery, a-

_“Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist,” he said with a smirk._

His heart stopped in his throat. Well he certainly wasn’t that anymore. Nebula spoke to him but he heard no sounds. 

_“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you,” Steve said with disgust._

He wasn’t sure when she had stopped crying, maybe hours ago. Time passed quickly when you were alone. She was strong. 

She picked him up effortlessly. He grumbled something unintelligible and stood. The soles of his suit crunches over-

He took a sharp breath. Panic poured from every pore. It leaked out of his mouth in fear and short breaths. His hands were still shaky, his dusty, red hands. What had his feet crunches over? 

His eyes were screwed shut, blinding him to the empty planet but for he and Nebula. Her sharp voice echoed in his ear, sounds without words. He raised his armor. Fearfully, he opened his eyes and prepared to see the body of his-

There was nothing there.

Suddenly there was sound again.Winds ripped past his numb body, screeching through his bloody ears. The broken ship sighed and groaned as the wind pressed into the abuse mechanics. Nebula was screaming. Her blue hands- blue and red, blue and red- were over his destroyed armor.

“We have to go!” She screeched, shaking his shoulders.

He shook his head to hear more clearly, “Wha-“

A large groan sounded above them as metal collided with metal. 

She tightened her grip, thrusting her frame upon him as she jumped. “Look out!”

The brigs of the ship were falling apart. The ground quaked beneath their feet as Nebula cursed their luck- their luck. He fought the urge to laugh.

 A chunk of metal hitting the ground only encouraged him.

 He shook himself- no, now was not the time to lose his head. Geez and here he thought the kid had a hard time focusing. His eyes widened.

He flipped himself over, taking in Nebula’s turquoise and silver face. Her black eyes glared at him, tears flowing down her skin. He pulled himself forward on the burnt flesh of his arms.

His eyes darted around, searching for a suit of blue and red, a shock of dark hair, a feeble voice, anyth- 

A feeble voice.

_“Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.”_

 He pressed a hand to his face- a red hand, the red hand oh god where was he where was he? The kid couldn’t have just- he couldn’t have just... Mr. Stark took a deep breath.

Mr. Stark, that was who he was- that was his identity. 

And Mr. Stark would not return home without Mr. Park- god he couldn’t do this. He shook his head, ignoring Nebula’s voice. He was ruining her chance of survival just like Quill had ruined their chance of survival.

Mr. Stark found he didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” She called over the clash of metal and fire.

He ignored her as he pulled himself up. He was fine he reminded his shaking hands. He could do this he commanded to his trembling legs.

The land was barren and covered in red dirt. But where was Parker? Nebula ran towards him, pulling on his arm. She didn’t want to watch anyone else die.

“Listen we can’t stay here we have to-!”

**_BOOM!_ **

Red and orange smashed into one another like hot glass, creating bigger and bigger clouds of smoke and ash.

He could feel the heat licking his rusty skin. The structures were collapsing into one another, creating countless explosions. Nebula shouted something, but this time it was an SOS.

He remember his suits and the fires he had calmed with an extinguisher. He was so in control. Mr. Stark held back a laugh as machines exploded and projected around them.

Were they going to die?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I would love to hear your guys’ thoughts! Huge fan that I am this is still my first marvel fic and I’d really, really appreciate the feedback. 
> 
> Does it seem in character for them? What do you think you should happen next? How you do feel about this chapter?


	3. Cap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was surrounded by long grass, sitting in a foreign land in a bloodied uniform with his friend’s death replaying in his head. 
> 
> A solider shouted in his ear, blood and spit spraying with his hot voice.
> 
> He didn’t flinch. The time for politeness was over. Bodies piled by the hundreds. Their men were bleeding, they were clinging to life like the flies his father would trap in windows.

He was surrounded by long grass, sitting in a foreign land in a bloodied uniform with his friend’s death replaying in his head. 

A solider shouted in his ear, blood and spit spraying with his hot voice.

He didn’t flinch. The time for politeness was over. Bodies piled by the hundreds. Their men were bleeding, they were clinging to life like the flies his father would trap in windows.

_He bent over their old window, fiddling with it until the frame squeaked shut._

_Buzz... buzz..._

_The boy frowned, tugging on his father’s coat. “Dad, what are you doing?”_

_Buzz..._

_His father beamed, “I’ve finally found it, son- a way to keep those nasty vermin from causing any trouble.”_

_Buzz... buzz- buzz-buzz-buzz..._

_His brow furrowed as he moved his head past his father’s waist, “Dad, what are you...?”_

_The buzzing of flies silenced him. Their fuzzy black bodies were trapped behind the stained window. They buzzed and buzzed and flew back and forth, their red eyes staring at him as they threw themselves against the barrier._

_One fly laid on the ground, his black body twitching as yellow liquid oozed from his wings. It was paralyzed.  His stomach churned as a thousand red eyes hit the glass before hitting it again and again and buzzing in terror as their tortured continued._

_Buzz buzz buzz buzz **buzz buzz BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ-**  
_

_The boy startled when his father clapped him on the back. He watched the man with frightened eyes. His dad tapped the glass with a satisfied hum. He smiled at him._

“ _See, son? Once you stick ‘em together they’re easy to kill.”_

*

_Buzz buzz buzz **buzz BUZZ-**_

He swatted a fly as it landed on his neck.

The grass was too long, his face felt too rough- he wasn’t in the 40s. He wasn’t a part of that world anymore. He was here in Wakanda and he’d lost. 

He’d been alive almost 100 years and he still couldn’t keep civilians safe.

He still couldn’t keep his friends safe. Bucky was smiling just a few hours ago. He’d been happy, he has been moving, he had been _talking_.

Bucky’s last word was his name. 

And now his ashes coated the floor.

A sick, cold part of him that he would never admit to was glad there wasn’t a body. The last time Bucky had left he’d fallen off the train and vanished beneath snow and ice and wind. Just because he didn’t see Bucky didn’t mean he was dead. In fact, the lack of evidence could give his friend a fighting chance.

But then...

He _had_ seen Bucky’s body. He’d seen the lines etched across Bucky’s face before his weapon had slipped from his hand and his body had crumbled like sand. He stared at the brown and white flecks beneath his knuckles.

A hand was on his shoulder- purple cloth, sweat, warmth- a firm hand. Thor was cursing the gods and trembling with more rage than Steve had ever seen in him before. Loss could twist even the brightest man’s soul.

 “Cap, we have to find the others,” Bruce said calmly. 

“One second,” he mumbled.

 Bruce opened his mouth before closing it, completely lost on how to console his friend.

“Bruce?”

 He watched Cap’s face before speaking hesitantly. His blue eyes were pale and empty. Cap was still sitting on the dirt, long grass pulling at his suit as he stared at the ground. Bruce’s gaze flickered back and forth from Bucky’s molecules to the sad, blue eyes which now stared at him.

“...Yes?” 

He coughed, his pale mouth twisting and shaking before he spoke. 

“I...”

 Cap looked up at the sky, blinking furiously before a strangled cry fell from his mouth. He shook violently. He wondered where Sam had gone, if he was okay.

 He was wasting time sitting here, he wasn’t helping _anyone_. He was as scared and useless as a fly trapped in a window. If Bucky were here he’d say- he choked down a sob.

 _God_ , Bucky...

 “I-I need... I need a jar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you for all the kudos! I’d really, really appreciate hearing your thoughts on my writing. Thank you!


	4. Raaguleh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula was pulling him backwards.
> 
> His feet stumbled over rock as the explosions roared and bit and hissed into the choking sky. 
> 
> “Two of us,” she answered a masked woman.
> 
> Her mouth opened with a slippery voice, a high accent with contractions and muted cheer. He heard nothing the masked woman said as he searched for the kid’s body. Where was his body?!

Nebula was pulling him backwards.

His feet stumbled  over rock as the explosions _roared_ and _bit_ and _hissed_ into the choking sky. 

“Two of us, Raaguleh,” she answered to a masked woman.

Her mouth opened with a slippery voice, a high accent with contractions and muted cheer. He heard nothing the masked woman said as he searched for the kid’s body. Where was his body?!

He pawed at her metallic arm.

He shook his head, irrationally focusing on his own behavior instead of the mission. He was a man dammit. He didn’t paw at people like a drowned kitten.

“Where’s the kid?” He shouted over cracks and crumbles of earth and metal.

Her black, button eyes bent at his shout. “What?!”

His eyes widened; he raised his dirty hands with each word. “Where’s the kid?!”

She shook her head, the ship whirring loudly behind her. “There’s no one else!”

“That’s not right,” he said with flickering eyes, scanning his former position on the ground.

There was no red and blue suit, no dark eyes, no one.

He turned to her, ignoring the other man.

“He was _there._ He was right next to me!” He shook his head, dismissing her protests. 

“We have to keep looking.”

That explanation would have to suffice. He turned away from her, jumping from the ship’s boarding path. The thin metal shook beneath his boots as he ran towards the explosions.

“Kid! _Kid!_ ” He cupped his hands over his split lip.

Flames crackled and hissed; a piece of metal collapsed to his right. He tripped over a large stone and watched the ground quaked and collapse as result of Thanos’ plan. _The results of Thanos’ plan-_  

He shook his head. He shouted through a dry throat, dirty hands cupped around his mouth.

“Peter where are you?!”

*

“We cannot wait any longer, Nebula,” Raaguleh said calmly. “The planet is collapsing.”

She removed her mask to glance back at the colored children, all clInging to one another. They were pale and thin, arm to arm on the ship’s seats. A blue child whimpered as she clung to her brother’s shaking arm. 

He stared at Raaguleh.

“I am sorry but I must protect them before anyone else,” she whispered to Nebula. “If we stay here any longer we will all die.”

Her mouth tightened. “My ship was destroyed, my sister murdered, and my home broken. I can’t leave him to the same ruin.”

Raaguleh frowned. “You do not know this man.”

Her frown tightened, and with it her resolve. “He fought with Gamora’s friends.”

She glared at Raaguleh, challenging her to question the task at hand. Nebula didn't speak another word, her eyes said enough- dark, vacant, desperate to help, desperate to not be alone. The women nodded at her- they were both on a mission. Raaguleh placed the mask over her red skin.

The children stared at Nebula with fear- was she a new threat? Raaguleh calmed their fears before turning to the former assasin. She locked eyes with her, calm, white eyes meeting black.

“Be quick, Nebula. I cannot promise we will be here if you return.”

*

“Peter!” He screamed. _“Peter!”_

A cliff fell to ruin, shattering the ground with its size. He shut his eyes and mouth, his mind reprimanding his silence. How would Peter hear him if he flinched at every quake and sound?

Helooked up at the dark sky of fire and rock. His suit was damaged, but not broken. He shot off into the air, ignoring the rocks hurtling past him.

Even from here the ground was barren. It was red ground of dust and fire. He scanned the quaking red earth, desperate to see a colorful suit or a hint of brown.

_There!_

A blue and red figure- _thank god._ He surged forward, already planning to lecture Peter about using his programmed headpiece within the suit. How many times had he they had this discussion?

All Tony asked was- between fighting monsters and helping old ladies across the street- for a little heads up, especially when in another galaxy. Normally the kid could have a conversation with a wall. Of course Peter would go silent when he needed him the most.

If he'd had things his way Peter would be at home right now with his aunt, working on homework or playing videogames with Ned. Peter was good at games; he was good at beating the odds, he told himself. Video game scores didn't ease his nerves. A hundred scenarios of innocent little boys falling victims to men like Thanos flashed in front of his eyes like a horror movie which never ended.

 _No._ He refused to entertain the tricks of his mind; it was hard to make a phone call in the middle of an intergalactic earthquake. The kid was fine- Tony had just talked to him a few minutes ago before the earthquake separated them. But the kid was safe now, that's what mattered- that's what mattered.

The image of Peter disappearing played through his mind on repeat. He raised a hand to his head. He had enough to worry about without his mind conjuring false, violent fantasies.

The flames of his boots flickered to nothing as he set foot on the ground, worried and upset.

“Kid, what have we talked abo-“

Nebula turned around, angry with his reckless disappearance.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she shouted.

His eyes widened.

“Wha-“ his feet stopped as his mouth dropped open. “You’re not-“

“ _Listen_ whoever you’re looking for is-“ she closed her eyes, looking away. She inhaled deeply, fearful of what the oxygen now held- their bodies, they had just... faded away.

“I’m sorry but they’re gone. And we have to leave. We’ll die here!”

“I’m not going anywhere without him. I haven’t seen the kid and I’m not giving up-“

“He’s gone!”

Her mouth trembled like a child’s hand over paper. Her black eyes held back nothing. If he’d been focused he would have felt sorry for her.

“He’s gone, okay?! Whoever you’re waiting for isn’t- _they’re not coming back!”_

“Listen Smurfette,” he hissed, “I have to find the kid! I can’t go home without him- he’s _here!_ If you don't want to help I can respect working alone, at this point you're an obstacle."

He glared at her. Some part of him felt an unexplainable need to prove himself to her. He could find the kid himself without her snide comments.

"But go sulk in your own corner when you work alone, because I _don't._ "

Nebula exhaled harshly, his stubborn nature remindering her Gamora- she closed her eyes. _Stupid_ man, he was going to get them both killed. Sorrow was buried in between her bones, but she had learned to spill over her tears with fire and ferocity.

Tears never brought mercy and she of all people knew that cold truth. His naivety and his hope would be his end. Hope was the end of everything.

Perhaps if Nebula hadn't, if she'd been stronger- She held back the urge to hit him. She knew she was looking for any opportunity to lash out after Gamora... She growled and shook her head.

They needed to get out of here.

Nebula grabbed his arm and shoved him in what she hoped was the right direction. In the back of his mind he wondered why he couldn't fight her off. He was strong enough to find the kid so why couldn't he?

Why was his chest so heavy and why was everything was too loud and why were his hands were red and- the knowledge of something worse, something he refused to think out loud pressed against his mind.

He was a man of science, did he really believe the delusions of his traumatized mind? He was jumping to conclusions- he simply needed to keep looking. All of these thoughts passed through his mind like rushing water, fast and dragging away him from so many other concerns such as the dead weight which was his body.

He cursed her for taking him. She blocked out every expletive which fell from his mangled mouth of cuts and blood. Her black eyes hardened with her mission.

Somewhere between screaming at her and staring at his hands the man fell silent and became malleable as clay. Not that Nebula could hear much over the ear piercing explosions. But his final words gripped her focus and refused to let go.

His breath and words were one- like a thousand sparks, hot and sharp and all consuming. He was beginning to hyperventilate- breathing quickly before gaping for more oxygen. His eyes were wide with terror, confusion, something else between denial and realization.

His boots pushed against the dirt as they approached the ship. Raaguleh called her forward as the passengers cried and shook with each burst of fire. The man cried out as well, his eyes still searching the planet’s fires.

“We can’t leave- I didn’t-“ he took a deep breath. “Oh god I didn’t- I didn’t- I didn’t find his body I didn’t-“

He scrubbed a hand over his face.

He had to find him he had to find him he _**had** to find him._ She looked down at his shaking arms and told herself she was doing the right thing- she was _saving_ him. She held back another shout, held back the irrational urge to toss this man away from her and _avenge._

She wasn’t a hero goddamnit- _they weren’t heroes!_ Gamora shouldn’t have been here. They didn’t belong in this mess of a game their father had forced them to play. Again, the man pulled her from her own thoughts.

He was staring at her, _begging_ her. “We _can’t_ leave. Where did he go- where _is he?_ _Where’s the kid?!”_

She kept her mouth shut as she pulled his dead weight into the ship, her mouth a firm, cobalt line. He felt rage coursing through him, hot and strong as the flames his suit created. This kid was going to be _abandoned_ all because she wouldn't help look for him. The kid was waiting for him! He pulled her down to his level, shaking her with anger.

 _“WHERE’S THE KID?!”_

He screamed and spat like an animal. All the while she said nothing, her face impassive to his destress. Why wasn't she running back with him?

They could find him if they just looked! She stared at him as if he were a ghost, as if he was the crazy one for wanting answers. As if there wasn’t a body bac- a _kid_ back there who needed his help.

The children cowered at the bloody man’s hot words and skittish movements. The black eyed woman only encouraged their terror. Raaguleh hushed their fears with a soft, flowing voice.

But nothing could block out the cries as the ship shot into space.

“Where’s the kid?!” He screamed at her, his face a mix of anger and fear.

She shut her eyes as Raaguleh pushed a needle into his arm.

“Where’s the kid?! Where’s the kid where’s the kid _WHERE’S THE KID?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I would really love to hear what any of the 50 some readers think- that's incredible! Thank you for the kudos! What would you guys like to see happen next? What was your favorite part of this chapter?


	5. Adaliah

He woke up with a knot in his back, something stiff which pulled at the rest of his aching bones with it. His head was pounding and the lights were too bright. A groan fell from his lips.

Someone... someone was touching him.

_Pepper?_

No, the thoughts which followed Pepper's name were too harsh to consider. A sharpness in his head pulled him from such dark thoughts. There was a painful ache behind his eyes. They kept the lights at bay, but barely. Warm air puffed against his eyelids. 

A soft hand ran down his chin.

He opened his eyes, analyzing his surroundings. Someone gasped and the hand disappeared. Thin, carbon and ceramic tiles mixed with titanium alloys covered the walls. 

A group of blue, red, and green individuals sat together on the opposing metallic bench. The families huddled on the small seat, all of them reassuring one another. Long, flickering lights shone down upon him.

His bench was empty.

“Where will you go?” 

“To Thanos,” Nebula whispered bitterly, glaring at the emptiness in front of their ship.

She hadn’t seen another planet since they’d left Titan. Raaguleh turned away from the blackness of space. She frowned at Nebula before returning to her piloting.

“You do not know where he is.”

“Exactly. What better time to start looking?”

He was lying on something hard, a thin blanket draped over him. Nebula was here. They were safe, for now. 

Ha, safe. Their safety was as certain as him winning the lottery. Well, actually, he knew enough people that he could pull some strings...

But no amount of money could fix this problem. His influence, his suits, his friends... His chest rattled with inhaled dirt  of Titan and something wet, a truth he dare not name.

A falsity, a lie, an impossible illusion of nothing more than fear.

He had fallen victim to nightmares and false memories of a frightened mind. This was nothing new. One of the boys began bickering with the woman holding; his red skin was dotted with large bruises.

Actually, this was the definition of new. He had left earth- he had worked alongside aliens. There were creatures which could feel others emotions, a wizard who manipulated reality, someone hateful enough to kill-

“Have we met before?” He asked softly, smiling at the little girl.

She gasped and pulled away, her approaching blue hand shrinking back to her waist.

He chuckled, before slowly sitting up. The blanket fell to the floor as he propped himself against the ship’s wall. The girl was small, just a head higher than their seats. 

Her eyes widened as she walked back to their bench.

She joined a small group of children and adults. All of them were bruised and dirty, and all of them were staring at him. He thought of the village he had saved all those years ago, and the boy who cried out to his father as a gun was pressed to his head.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

A tired woman smiled at him as the children focused on this addition to the ship. Who was this man? 

“I know, I know,” he said with a nod. “I’m gorgeous.”

They all laughed. The blue girl hid her mouth as she smiled. He felt himself relax with their giggles and hopeful eyes. Okay, this he could do. He placed a hand over his chest plate in mock offense.

“Excuse me, blue man girl?”

Her nose scrunched up as he spoke, crinkling the freckles dotting her blue skin.

“Ever seen them on broadway? I guess... blue woman’s group in your case,” he mused.

“But it’s true. Where I come from I am the beauty standard.”

He stuck his tongue out, staring down at it as the children laughed. He raised his eyebrows.

“See? Perfect quality,” he moved his hand across the room as he spoke.

“You could cover the entire galaxy and you’d never find one even half as good. “

34 pairs of eyes blinked back at him. He raised his eyebrows. Nebula watched the interaction silently.

“You guys speak English? I mean you’d have to speak to English or you wouldn’t laugh at my jokes and boundary breaking as I am I can only speak so many languages. So either everyone here understands English or everyone is susceptible to peer pressure.”

He raised his eyebrows as a child began to speak. “Actually, never mind I’ll teach you.”

“You,” he pointed to the blue girl as he smiled.

He waved her over.

“Come have a seat,” he said with a grin, patting the spot next to him.

“And I will not hold you accountable for stroking my beard as I too am impressed by its punctilious shape.”

The girl smiled at him.

She wore a thick, red scarf which hung from her neck to the floor and a pair of dark goggles which rested below her... were those ears? She had long, blue tendrils at the top of her head which curled and bumped her arms as she moved.

She looked at the floor when he spoke, her hands wrapped in the tendrils.

“But we’ll save that word for another day. I’ve gotta say I’m impressed. I’m sure you know this one, do you know hello?“

She nodded, still looking at the floor. A shy student, he could work with that. He graduated from MIT after all.

“What’s your name?”

She shook her head, remembering her mother’s advice. Before the soldiers had invaded and her father had grabbed her and her brother into his arms, she had warned her. Her name was her identity. The other children stared at him, worried this would be the end of the game.

But she nodded again before stepping forward.

She placed a blue hand on his cheek,mumbling to herself. He said nothing as her soft hand danced over the dark stubble. She pulled her hand away with a pout.

He laughed as she rubbed a hand over her own cheek.

“Not good,” she said, placing her hands on her cheeks.

He laughed. “Should mine be like yours?”

“Yours- yours too...” she frowned, “too messy.”

His grin widened. “That’s amazing! So you speak multiples languages.”

She smiled, her brown eyes meeting his.

_Oh._

“I speak all kinds!” 

Her shyness disappeared with each word. “I want- I want more of yours. Your words.”

She grinned, “I want to be like you.”

“ _I was just trying to be like you,” Peter sighed._

_His brown eyes were filled with hurt and sincerity. He frowned at the kid, crossing his arms. He’d regret his next words._

_“I wanted you to be better.”_

“Adaliah.”

The memory stopped. The lights flickered, voices in foreign language murmured questions he could never answer. Questions he could never answer-

“Mist Tark? My name’s- my name is Ad-Adaliah and I brought my brother here.” She pointed at a child with color like the ocean who had fallen asleep on a green man.

 “Raaguleh brought us- she brought us here.” Her eyes widened with the story.

“Cause the sky was losing its puzzle pieces and- and we couldn’t stay in a puzzle with missing pieces cause- cause nothing would fit. Right?”

Her big, brown eyes stared back at him. Something in his chest ached, as if his arc reactor was still a part of him. Something in him was crumbling to pieces with those brown eyes staring back at him.

He smiled. “Yes?”

She stuck out her tongue, her eyes bright.

He laughed, his head falling backwards with the noise. “Top quality, Adaliah. You’ve beaten me.”

She grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys thank you so much for the comments, they made my day! I’d love to hear what you think about Adaliah and Tony! What about Nebula’s plan for Thanos?


	6. The Man They Called Stark

He distracted her with stories.

“It’s incredibly tall, taller than a hundred of you standing on top of one another,” he said confidently.

Her eyes widened.

“Inside the building there are hundreds of machines and gears- all designed by yours truly,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest.

“And, occasionally, there are people. Now _those_ are _not_ made by yours truly."

“What do they look like? Do all the humans look like you?” She asked, her words dripping with wonder.

She pressed a hand to his arc reactor, it’s blue light blending in with her small palm. She stared at the creation, gasping softly as it hummed beneath her skin. She reminded him of the kid.

He laughed, ignoring the thought.

“They wish they could be so lucky. I’m the model for humans, remember?”

“This,” he said with a grin, pointing to himself, “is as good as it gets.”

She giggled as his eyebrows moved up and down.

His quick speech and descriptive words fascinated her. The children whispered and watched with big eyes as he spoke. He smiled softly, resting an arm on the child’s blue shoulder as she made herself comfortable on the seat.

Adaliah grinned and requested another story as the ship passed hundreds of floating bodies. Raaguleh said nothing, grateful for the distraction. Adaliah watched in wonder as he spoke of heroes who defied time and men who grew green (green like her daddy), and jumped onto buildings! They saved his life.

Her long ears moved happily as he spoke, curling around her and peeking up with his voice. She could hear his heart beat when her ears focused past his descriptions. She could hear every word and memorize its meaning.

At the end of each story she asked questions, not realizing with each story fewer children were speaking. Adaliah was so enthralled with his stories she didn’t notice the passing hours or her eyelids growing heavier with each word. The other children had long ago fallen silent, all of them snoring softly.

Until eventually she, too, fell asleep, her head resting against the man’s arm. In the fog between reality and sleep she realized a forgotten question. She’d never asked his name.

Nebula watched the man they called Stark and the blue child with caution.

He was calmer than he’d been during the earthquake. Or the thunderstorm, the fires- whatever natural disaster had occurred. And yet it was cruel and unnatural.

What better way to describe her father?

Repulsion twisted in her gut like a knife. His sick smile came to the front of Nebula’s mind. She had begged and screamed as he’d pulled her body apart. She hated Thanos, _hated him._

The only motivator to continue was her rage.

Thanos had killed Gamora. The little girl she’d lived in fear of, the girl she had hated. The girl who’d lost her childhood the same as Nebula.

Her eyes scanned the small group of men, women, and children. Perhaps they were also strangers to one another. War either erased the lines of friends and family, or it emboldened it.

It left nothing behind but thoughts of _us_ and _them_ , _right_ and _wrong._

She had walked the lines of survival and death, each time falling closer and closer to her end. She would never forget the _years_ of Thanos ordering she and Gamora to fight. And for what purpose?

Why had they been forced to fight like dogs in the street? She had been no older than the girl speaking to this man, just a child of Adaliah’s age. She watched the dark hair on his face, the even breaths which left him. No father had ever been so kind to her as this man was to Adaliah.

He had held Adaliah close, her blue skin a constant reminder of herself. She thought of the way he had held the boy. She had seen his body disappear, heard his pleas and felt... sorrow for someone, someone she could not call by name.

Nebula had watched children be slaughtered, rounded up like criminals and recruited for an endless nightmare before they fell to the ground. They never got up. She had envied them and their bloody, metallic bodies.

She had been stronger than them, but never strong enough. She hadn’t wanted to be stronger than anyone. She’d just wanted a family.

Watching the man they’d called Stark with the boy, she’d wondered if that was a family. The boy played the role perfectly. He had cried and begged like all of the children Nebula had ever known.

He lasted longer than the others, a mystery she still could not answer. There had been nothing she could do, but her hatred and anger only grew stronger as she watched another child die for Thanos’ cause. Stark had held his fading body close, as if sheer will could hold the boy together

Of course it hadn’t, and as the boy fell to pieces and disappeared from sight she heard him apologize. She remembered the shame of losing a battle, but like Stark, had remained silent. Stark had laid him down, his eyes never leaving the boy.

And she realized it didn’t matter that the boy had stayed longer than the others. His disappearance had been too cruel, and too fast. Stark had remained silent, shaking and pressing his hand to his face until the blasts of rock and metal had stolen him from Nebula’s sight.

Now he sat 10 feet from her.

“I charge extra for pictures,” he said with his closed eyes, smirking.

She frowned, her eyes focusing on the tired man in the flickering light.

“I thought you were asleep.”

He opened his eyes, turning to face her while minding the child’s head. Adaliah stirred for a moment before burying her face into his side. She didn’t shy away from his armor.

“I could never sleep through all this noise,” he said, nodding to the sleeping passengers.

“You likes jokes,” she said, black eyes meeting his.

He sighed as he stretched, not meeting her gaze.

“When I’m not living one, yeah.”

She frowned. “How could you live a joke?”

“It was a...” he laughed.

It was soft and quick to end, as if it shouldn’t have been heard at all. She dreaded the silence which followed. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind.”

His eyes flickered back to the child resting on his shoulder.

He seemed ready to say something, but his eyes changed and he fell silent before she could ask. It was his sorrow which most deterred her. She had her turned away from him as tears had rolled down his red face.

She thought back to their time on Titan; she thought of the boy clinging to Stark as Stark had lied to him.

_“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he had soothed._

She had been powerless in Stark’s emptiness. She didn’t like being powerless. Power was something to be coveted, contained.

It was not to be swept away by the tears of a stranger. She was confused, frightened even, to have been so impacted by the humans. Stark had seemed... lost.

Her own emotions had crept up into her throat, taking away her voice as the boy had died.

“Are you some kind of a celebrity on your planet?” She asked.

Stark raised his eyebrows. “I’m the kind of celebrity who saves lives, so I’d say I’m _the_ celebrity.”

She rolled her eyes, staring at the ship’s lights as he sighed.

“But these days I’m some kind of everything.”

She nodded, her eyes flickering over the ship and its passengers. There was a boy who stirred in his sleep. He was the color of lilacs and lavender, he wore a dirty, brown pair of trousers. He mumbled softly before curling into the side of his sleeping mother.

All of them suffered by Thanos’ will. For al of his plans and his visions, he knew nothing of caring for the innocent- he didn’t know how to care for anyone.

“You were good with them.”

He shrugged, ignoring the comment.

He was a new person, or perhaps he was returning to the person he’d always been. In a matter of hours he had changed from a desperate man to a charmer. She and Gamora lived- had lived, she corrected herself, in strength and ferocity.

He seemed to mock it. She told him as much.

“You say that now. But it’s funny how agreeable materialism becomes when you own five Ferrari’s.”

“Five what?”

He shook his head, almost wistfully. “You’d know it when you saw them.”

He knocked his hand against the wall, the metal echoing throughout ship. Raaguleh turned from her position at the front. She frowned at Nebula before turning back.

“Much flashier than this ship, that’s for certain,” he said.

“ _This ship_ saved our lives,” Nebula hissed. “No thanks to you.”

“Well if you’d wanted one of my ships you could’ve just asked," he said.

He spoke again with tight eyes, his mouth a mix of irritation and mirth.

“Of course, I only made Thanos bleed and formed our plan- what would I know about saving people?”

Whatever amusement he’d found suddenly disappeared with his question. His eyes dropped to the ground as he sighed. He pressed his clean hand to his temple.

“See, this is why we should have brought one of my ships. I stock each one thoroughly with alcohol,” he groaned.

“You’ve left Earth once, and you have space ships?”

“Sweetheart, I have everything.”

_“My child,” Thanos had cooed over Gamora’s fuming body._

_Every hit had been praised, despite Nebula’s screams. It never seemed to matter when Nebula was hurting. She was hushed with a false monicker, as if her broken ribs were no more than a bug bite._

She was not a child, not a 'dear' or 'love.' She was an assassin, a killing machine worthy of no man's wandering eyes or masked insults. Nebula glared at Stark, ignoring the instinct to hurt him more than he had her.

“You have everything?”

He laughed, “I definitely have liquor on my ships.”

For the first time Raaguleh spoke up from her position at the front.

“We do not waste storage space with alcohol.”

Tony put a hand to his chest, not unlike the way he had earlier with the children. His eyes widened as he sat up, mindful of Adaliah’s head. His mouth became an uneven line of questions and disbelief.

“I understand this isn’t Earth, but what kind of people don’t value a strong drink in a crisis?”

He frowned at Nebula, redirecting his attention to the blue woman.

“What’s life without a little fun?”

She frowned, raising an eyebrow, “...Life.”

He scoffed, “Sounds boring.”

She said nothing, crossing her arms as he chuckled. His suit had been repaired by some creation of his own. He shook his head in amusement as the children of war slept. No wonder Stark had tried to fight her father.

Only someone so reckless and oblivious to the consequences would be stupid enough to try.

If he had been better prepared things could be different. Nebula was still surprised she’d managed to drag him on board. He sighed before his next sentence, his eyes focused on her.

“And feel free to warn me the next time you try to make me a human backpack,” he said.

“You mean when I _saved your life?”_

His mouth twisted to the side and his eyes darted to the ceiling, as if he was deep in thought.

He could picture it now, Nebula's firm hand on his shoulder as the planet died around them. If he closed his eyes he was still there. The ground crumbled and the wind hissed and the flames roared in his ears. The fires were _hot._ He cursed his brain for so feebly assigning the primitive adjective to the _pain_ and _fear_ and inescapable _burning_ which had been the flames of Thanos' plan.

The flames and the smoke and the ash still cling to him. It was as if he had awoken in the dust of someone before him, an unspoken name taunting his every move. The ash covered him like a shroud, more of it disappearing with every moment.

He stared down at his hand. The lines of his fingers were coated with a fading red and brown, a particularly large patch of russet tracing the lines of his ring finger- _god Pepper._ Where was she? Had she escaped, or had she crumbled into the air like-his breath tumbled from his mouth, an accident, a mistake, something which shouldn't be here. _He shouldn't be here._  No, no he had tried already- he couldn't contact her, his signal had faded into nothing before her phone had even rung.

'It's because you're in _space_ idiot,' he thought. 

Of course Pepper would answer if she could, but she wasn't receiving his calls. In his heart he knew the only reason Pepper wouldn't answer was because she couldn't answer, and she couldn't answer because _he was in space._  They would see each other again soon and everything would be fine, _everything would be fine._ He repeated it to himself until he could no longer feel the burning in his lungs, the panic which bled into his every thought. He stared down at his stained hand.

Soon it would be clean, erasing his only evidence of- he inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. He ignored the anger desperately pushing his anguish to the bottom of his stomach. Some rescue mission.

“No I think I made myself perfectly clear,” he said, his eyes serious and his mouth set in a firm line. “Next time warn me.”

“Life doesn’t come with warnings,” Nebula said coldly. “Should you be so lucky to be informed of your suffering before it occurred you would have had no idea how to prepare.”

She wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself.

“If you hadn’t been so weak there wouldn’t have been a problem,” she said coldly.

And with that his eyes lost their anger, falling to something much quieter and far more impactful. He looked away from her before huffing out a short laugh. He looked down at Adaliah’s sleeping form, the child clinging to him in her sleep.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 100 kudos!! You guys are the best! Thank you so much!
> 
> I’d love to hear your thoughts on the chapter! What do you think about Tony and Nebula’s discussion? What would you like to see next?
> 
> Please guys, I’m dying for some actual critique here.


	7. General

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strange creatures which fought for Thanos continued to hiss and claw their way through smaller and smaller groups of people until they too crumbled into the air. She heard the cries of battle. She stared at the space her King had once occupied.
> 
> Her hand was still warm from the King’s grasp.

Back on Earth, heroes were climbing the mountains of Wakanda, and flying through the thick clouds left by Thanos’ ships.

The strange creatures which fought for Thanos continued to hiss and claw their way through smaller and smaller groups of people until they, too, crumbled into the air. She heard the cries of battle. She stared at the space her King had once occupied.

Her hand was still warm from the King’s grasp.

_“Up, General! This is no place to die.”_

The newcomers were talking to themselves. The bearded man- the King addressed him as Captain America- sat on the ground, breathing heavily. She wasn’t sure if he was panicking, or if he too was leaving them.

It seemed all of the strong leaders were dying.

Her breath shook on the way out, soft and uncertain. She frowned at her own movement. Okoye was many things, but soft? Never. She was a warrior, a protector of her beloved country. But... but the King- what would they do without... without King T’Challa?

She wouldn’t have believed his death had she not seen it with her own eyes. His final words were to her, words of comfort and encouragement. She could think of no better way to remember his spirit, but she did not want to remember their great King as if he were an ancient relic.

She wanted him to be here, to rule with a kind hand and a strong mind.

Perhaps Okoye’s mind was more firm than the King’s, if somewhat more militaristic. But she would follow- she would have followed him to the ends of the earth. Her cheeks were wet with pain and fear.

“General?”

She raised her head. Her expression was fierce- she had to protect the civilians- but her pride, her confidence, it had faded away like the King of Wakanda. Was that it?

Had M’baku brought King T’Challa back only to lose him to a foreigner? Shuri’s efforts, she and Nakia- how would she tell Nakia? How would she tell Shuri her brother had died in front of her? What would the Queen Mother say? Were they even alive? Or had they too crumbled into the wind; had all of their strength and honor left nothing more than a trail of dust as a remembrance?

“ _General_ ,” Dr. Banner said again, his eyes filled with warmth.

She was the General, the General of Wakanda’s armies. And she had failed her king, worse, she had failed her country and with it the world. They had said this battle crossed over the lives of trillions.

“Y-Yes, Doctor?” She cleared her throat, embarrassed by her her stutter.

The white haired woman, Dr. Banner, the lightning god, Captain America, and the man in the silver armor all stared at her. It was wrong to find joy in the discontent of others, but Okoye would be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel better to see they, too, were without answers. She felt, strangely... uncertain.

The only thing which frightened her more had been watching the King fade to ashes in front of her.

“What is it, Doctor Banner?”

“Your... your medical team, can you contact them?” He, too, seemed weary.

He sighed, eyes darting across the jungle. The white haired woman laid a hand on his red and gold armor, looking up at him. Okoye dare not interrupt their expressions with her half answers.

The man and woman held something strong, something unspeakably certain between them. She was glad someone had something to hold to, someone to-  _W’kabi_.

No. She would not spend her days questioning the life of everyone on this planet, not even the life of her love. She had a duty to Wakanda and all those within it. These people needed her.

Okoye nodded firmly. “Of course, Dr. Banner. We must gather the remaining fighters.”

*

Soldiers slumped over the battlefield, their blood drying under the harsh sun.

Flies buzzed in large groups, their small, black bodies thinning out over the land. A woman lay on the ground, her eyes forever open. A fly landed on one of her unblinking eyes, it’s legs twitching atop her right eyeball.

The general closed her eyes, offering the fallen solider her respect.

Her nose was filled with the thick smell of hot blood and sweat. Sweat ran down her own skin as the sun beat upon her head. Her jaw tightened with her resolve.

“Wakandans!” She called into the air.

The others followed her, intently shouting for any stragglers. They screamed until their throats and eyes burned. Yet it was far too quiet.

“We need to call someone,” Dr. Bruce said, panting.

The doctor stood tall in his red and bronze suit of armor. The general heard him offer it to the white haired woman. She politely declined.

“I need to stay on my feet,” she said.

The man in the silver armor spoke out loud.

“We can’t all stay here,” he said firmly. “Tony is still out there. He could be-“

“He could be dead,” the captain said.

His blue eyes focused on the glass jar in his hands. His mouth formed a soft line and his once bright eyes were dim. His words hung in the air.

The iron soldier turned on him, his eyes filled with anger. The captain was oblivious; he stared into the glass jar as if it held the answers to all of their questions. The other man wore a dark expression, betrayal and fear written across his face.

“No! No one said that and much as you may want to believe that-“

The captain spun around, glaring at the man. He clung the jar to him as he spoke, as if someone would rip it away from him. His eyes shone with anger.

“You think I want him dead, Rhodes?!” The captain shouted. “You think I  _want_  Tony to be dead?!”

“I imagine you wouldn’t be too upset about it,” Rhodes said. “Y’know I’ve been working by your side, but I haven’t forgotten what happened.”

The captain glared back at him, his mouth pulling into a grimace as he spoke. He placed the jar beside his feet.

“Because I have? These last two years haven’t exactly been  _easy_  for me, Rhodes.”

The man named Rhodes glared at the captain.

“Well, it’s always about you isn’t it?”

Cap’s face twisted into something hurt and hateful. He shouted as he rushed forward, knocking into the soldier before he was shot back by a red blast. Rhodey glared at him.

“I’ve been helping you! I’ve been trying to fix this so I can find my brother!”

With that his anger faded from his face, the silver mask lifting to reveal Rhodes’ concern.

“We lost, Cap,” he said softly.

“No we didn’t, not yet,” the captain said through gritted teeth. “No one else is losing a loved one.”

The general shook her head.

“How can we expect to save anyone with this bickering?” She glared at the two men.

“You are both wasting time. Whatever has caused this animosity must wait. We have work to do.”

Rhodes glared at the group before shaking his head.

“My work here is done.”

Every instinct in him called upon his military training, to stay with the group. The field was empty of bodies, most having escaped back to the center of Wakanda. Rhodey wasn’t needed here.

 _‘No man left behind,’_ he thought.

He blasted into the air as the others called his name. Steve turned away, grabbing the jar resting at its feet. His breathing slowed as he held the glass against his chest.

“Good, everyone’s fighting again,” the white woman said dryly. “And here I was worrying we’d have fun.”

“I shall follow Colonel Rhodes,” the lightning god said calmly.

“He fears he has lost his best friend. And for him and the Man of Iron I see no greater loss.”

“We need to get back to Wakanda,” the general said tersely.

“Of course,” he said.

“As they say on your planet, home is where the cardiac muscle rests most comfortably,” he said, smiling softly.

The general stared back at him.

The white haired woman shook her head. “Thor that’s not...”

“Yeah that’s not- that’s not right,” the doctor said, frowning.

“Well it’s... well it is a little right,” he defended.

“Mm,” the other woman frowned, shaking her head.

“No.”

“That just sounds disgusting,” Cap said, frowning.

“Well, forgive me; I haven’t been on Earth in a few years. Perhaps my information on the planet has been led askew,” Thor said, frowning.

“I haven’t even been introduced to the newest team member.”

The captain frowned. “You already met them-“

“I have heard great things of the mighty Kevin Bacon yet I did not see him on the field,” Thor said, frowning.

The spy frowned. “Did you just say Kevin Bacon?”

Thor raised his eyebrows.

“Yes I... I was told he was one of earth’s mightiest warriors. His heart must be filled with anguish, either that or he was simply too fearful to fight alongside his comrades.”

The doctor smiled, “Kevin Bacon isn’t-“

“Field ready yet,” the woman said, interrupting.

She smiled at the doctor’s confused expression.

“Bacon’s still new to the team,” she said sheepishly. “We didn’t think he’d be ready.”

The captain frowned, looking from person to person in confusion.

He spoke incredulously. “Who... who are we talking about?”

“The lord of dancing,” Thor said, as if it were obvious.

The doctor smiled before looking at the captain.

“Nat will tell you later,” he said softly.

*

When Thor found Rhodes he was not searching the sky, but speaking into his suit. He stood upon a tall, silver building. The wind pulled at Thor’s cloak, ruffling through his short hair.

Smoke and sound piled up around them. Single cars honked and sputtered, but mostly, it was quiet. Much of the chaos from hours ago had faded away with the dying humans.

It reminded him of Asgard, but his planet had not gone quietly or crumbled with Thanos’ plan. No, they had been stabbed and shot and  _murdered_ like animals led to slaughter. Sacrifices, his people had been called.

_“Even in death, you have become children of Thanos.”_

Colonel Rhodes mumbled something of directions and phone calls. Thor assumed he was contacting Pepper Potts, Tony’s betrothed. He fell silent as Thor approached, his face stoic.

How unfortunate it was, to see the men of iron fall... so human, despite it all.

“Tony’s birthday is tomorrow,” the man said softly.

The wind whistled in response, occupying Thor’s short silence.

“Birthdays are a celebration of life,” the god said. “We must find him so he does not celebrate alone.”

Rhodey looked out at the destroyed city. The overturned vehicles and smoke reminded him of the first time he lost his friend. They were supposed to stay together.

“He already is alone,” Rhodes said.

He sighed. “I should have looked for him. I mean, I didn’t know at first but that’s no excuse. I just thought... I thought Tony would join us.”

Rhodes laughed. “Hell, I thought he would come in blades of glory with AC/DC in the background.”

But he hadn’t, and who knew where Tony was now.

“I knew you guys needed my help. The last time there was a fight this big... well, I couldn’t help.”

Thor nodded, wishing he knew what comfort to bring this man. Rhodes shook his head at Thor’s concern. He couldn’t hear compassion; his mind was too filled by Ross and his angry words. Ross had been a road block for all of them from the start.

“The accords cost us a lot, y’know? Hell, they were still costing me yesterday,” Rhodes said, laughing. “I just wanted to prove it hadn’t taken everything from me, that I could still do my job.”

“So I joined the captain. I followed Vision and I thought I could keep him safe... like I thought I could keep Sam safe.”

The broken streets of this city taunted him, calling out to him as he watched from this skyscraper. The wind blew past Rhodes’ face, carrying the fear of thousands. But so many were now gone.

Was Tony gone?

“I know I need to make a plan. I need to move forward and make a decision. I’m wasting time standing here fearing the unknown.”

Thor nodded as the man continued speaking, voicing his concerns for the first time. Bruce had informed him of the Avengers’ “breaking up” as he’d said, though neither knew why. Still, the tension in the group was noticeable.

It was unlikely Colonel Rhodes had shared his concerns with anyone else.

“And if Sam is missing the way  _Tony_  is missing…“ He bit his lip.

Rhodes didn’t want Steve to be right; he didn’t want Steve to win. Not this time. God he was tired of this anger, this fighting. But if what Steve said was true...

“Then they’re probably both-

“Colonel Rhodes, do not blame yourself for what has happened to Tony Stark. He is a strong man, if somewhat... well, really he’s quite reckless not that I- of course I understand he is quite capable and of course that does allow for him-“

Rhodes raised his eyebrows as Thor continued.

“Are you done?”

Thor shrugged. “Unfortunately, rarely am I ever done. Loki says I- my brother says I talk too much.”

He looked at the ground before resting a large, gentle hand on Rhodes’ shoulder.

“Losing a brother is never easy.”

“No it isn’t.”

“But you have not lost Tony Stark yet, and I am determined to assist you in recovering him.”

Rhodes frowned, turning to face the god.

“Don’t you have business with the others to finish? What about your raccoon friend?”

Thor frowned in return, his brow furrowing as he spoke.

“Do you mean Rabbit?”

Thor smiled. “Do not fear my friend, I shall return for him. But you are seeking the return of your fallen friend and family. I can think of no greater and nobler quest to join.”

Rhodes smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m considering changing the title of this fic but I’m not certain. Thoughts?
> 
> I personally didn’t think it made sense for Rhodes to hug Steve in Infinity War. I mean it’d have been one thing if Rhodey put aside their differences to save the universe but it didn’t make sense for him to smile and hug the guy who nearly killed his best friend. I wanted to incorporate some of that into this chapter. But what do you guys think? 
> 
> And how many of you love Thor? Thor is such a sweet individual ^^


	8. Nebula

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you enjoy enjoyed the chapter because it took forever to write. Like I said before I will be changing the title of this fic, which will be effective next chapter.
> 
> TITLE CHANGE - Identities (I Don’t Feel So Good)

The words replayed in her head as she watched him.

“ _If you hadn’t been so weak there wouldn’t have been a problem,” she said._

It had been cold, unnecessarily so. But then, who did Nebula need to comfort now? There was no reason to curb her tongue. Not that’d she needed too. Her sister- her sister was dead.

She and Gamora had been damned in fear and damned in friendship.

“ _Again,” Thanos demanded._

_He sat on his chair, always his chair. His face was grim and stoic, always wanting more from the girls. His voice echoed in the large room, the only other sound being his daughters’ complaints._

_Gamora rest her hands over h_ er knees, panting. _Sweat clung to her dark hair. Nebula watched as she pushed a thick, curly lock from her green face._

_She was still strong. Gamora’s shoulders squared as she stood at her full height. Her mouth was crumpled with anger, and her eyes defiant._

_“We’ve already fought,” she hissed._

_Nebula scolded her own body, her bruises and breaks. She stared at her bent hand, weak she cursed. She laid on the ground, clutching her broken wrist as she shook._

_Thanos smiled at Gamora’s anger. No matter what she did, their father always seemed happy. Nebula had tried hiding, running, yelling, kicking, but he would never care for her the way he did Gamora._

_He grinned at Gamora’s huffing chest, her sharp eyes and grit teeth. Her shoulders shook from the physical exertion. She shoved a hand through her hair, glaring at their father._

_“Perfect,” he grinned._

“ _If it’s so perfect, why do you insist we continue?” Gamora hissed._

_“I don’t- I don’t want to,” Nebula said, her voice soft and tired._

_Thanos frowned at his youngest daughter, Nebula, always such a struggle. Gamora was a natural born leader. He sighed as Nebula glared at Gamora, always jealous._

_Nebula felt things more deeply than Gamora. It would be her greatest weakness. She pushed herself off of the ground, spitting blood over the room’s stone floor._

“ _You are too emotional,” he grumbled. “I wish to raise warriors, and yet both of you spit in my face. What children show their father such disrespect?”_

_Gamora glared at him, her voice squeaking as the child shouted at him. “You’re not my father!”_

_A pair of Thanos’ guards stepped forward, watching the two girls. Nebula knew it was a warning, and the only one they would receive. Thanos nodded as the children drew their weapons, Gamora proudly and Nebula reluctantly._

_“Again.”_

“It’s late,” she mumbled.

She pressed a green button which pulled out a larger bench. Stark glanced at the families squished onto one seat, their bodies pressed together like faded book pages. A woman stirred in her sleep, before pulling a green child closer to her side.

Stark raised his eyebrows.

Nebula rolled her eyes before laying down.

“I’m sure the families don’t want to separate from each other anyways,” she grumbled.

He chucked. “At least they’ll be spared funeral costs.”

She sighed, rolling onto her back as he spoke. The thick metal was rough on her back, it’s edges bumping against her spine. She stared at him.

“Are you really making jokes about burying dead people?”

“No,” he said. “I’m making jokes about not having to bury dead people.”

Her brow furrowed, the fine hairs pinching above her black eyes.

“This week has just been a shit show hasn’t it?” Stark said, shaking his head as he laughed.

“Not- not only is half of every planet’s population dead, but...” he laughed. “You can’t get comfortable on the bench.”

She glanced over, noting his smirk. Either his face or the lights were growing darker. His humor was laced with bitterness, but his eyes lacked any emotion.

God he was exhausting.

“Is this the result of emotionally sound parenting?” She asked, frowning.

“You spend days being an emotional wreck instead of moving on? I’ve never seen so much emotion in one person.”

He laughed.

“Yes, Nebula,” he said, grinning. “I am the result of good parenting. I spend my days petting kittens and holding babies.”

He rolled his eyes.

“From what I’ve seen, usually the result of emotionally sound parenting is emotionally sound children,” Stark said, frowning.

The lights had been dimming the last two hours, but he could hear her scoff into the dark.

“Children are emotional by default,” she muttered.

“Well... yeah, Sigmund Freud. Children are emotional,” he said, frowning. “What else would they be?”

She was silent, letting the words sink into her mind. Children are emotional. She frowned; her memories of violence and condescension would suggest otherwise.

The ship was silent but for the breathing of refugees.

“My father didn’t care for emotion,” she said.

He laughed. “My father didn’t believe in it. I think all dads are that way.”

She was silent for a time. The dimming lights continued to crackle over their heads. Soft light surrounded Stark and the small child sleeping next to him. Adaliah mumbled something, her head turning ever so slightly. Stark chuckled, his warm eyes watching her fondly.

He was oblivious to Nebula’s watchful eyes.

“No they’re not,” she muttered.

“Well, normal and healthy are completely different. Just test my breath,” he said.

“You’re not breathing on me, Stark.”

He frowned, staring at the outline of her in the dark.

“...What?” He said, confused. “No I’m not going to breathe on you.”

He shook his head, laughing softly. She raised her eyebrows at him, annoyed to find herself genuinely waiting for his response. Stark had become her primary source of conversation.

He rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Are you sure you’re not one of the Brady Bunch? I meant test my breath for alcohol. Y’know, the grown up people drink?”

She ignored the ridicule.

He wasn’t the first man she’d met to lose himself to the amber liquid. For all of his pride he would end up just another mess on the floor. Thank god they didn’t have alcohol on the ship, except for Raaguleh’s small stash which Nebula definitely did not know the location of.

But Stark seemed to obsess over it.

“Is that what your father drinks?” She asked. “The grown up people drink?”

“My father,” he said, sighing, “hasn’t had anything to drink in years.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah he’s...” his mouth quirked to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Howard’s going on 28 years sober.”

She said nothing, learning more each moment. His voice was dry, slightly nasally. It stirred with the mention of his father.

He smiled tightly, “I’m real proud of the guy.”

“Pride isn’t what I detect in your voice,” she said.

He shrugged. “Yeah well, nothing stops you from drinking like a....”

“... Like a fatal car crash.”

“He’s dead,” she said, not a question.

He nodded, before remembering she couldn’t see him. He cleared his throat, his mouth pulling up into a false grin. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

“Couldn’t be deader.”

“...Do you miss him?”

The response was instant. He laughed.

“No.”

She nodded, shuffling slightly on the bench. She pushed herself up with her arms before resting them behind her head. She stared at up at the ship’s ceiling.

It spat false flames of orange and red, her memories of Titan’s destruction.

“I’m going to kill my father,” she said lightly.

It was offered as a comfort, an attempt to cheer him up. He laughed as that reality sunk in. He was hurtling through space, sharing sob stories with a stranger who was comforting him with her intent to murder her pops.

“You and me both,” he said dryly. “That son of a bitch is dead.”

He paused, staring at Nebula. “No offense.”

She smirked. “None taken.”

He nodded, raising his eyebrows before he continued speaking. He carefully moved Adaliah’s head from his shoulder to the flat of the bench. He turned to face Nebula, palms resting under his chin.

“Now,” he said, smiling.

“While we’re whispering our deep, dark secrets- before your mom comes in and tells us to go to bed, let me ask you a question. How are you going to kill Thanos?”

“The same way he killed me, the way he killed Gamora- the way he killed everyone,” she hissed.

Her black eyes glared at the ceiling as she spoke, her voice dark.

“I’m going to rip him apart piece by piece,” she said. “When I leave there won’t be anything left of him.”

He hummed. “It’s your sense of artistry I really admire.”

“I think you admire my skills, and I assure you they’ll be present when I kill my father,” she said, smirking.

“Sounds pretty dark,” he said.

She nodded. “It sounds unemotional, cold.”

Nebula smirked. “It sounds perfect.”

*

“What day is it?”

“The 29th of May. Why do you ask?”

He nodded, “That’s what I thought.”

The children were awake now, buzzing like a busy beehive. They climbed over one another, chattering and giggling over amusement only children could find after something so horrid occurred. Tony sighed, stretching before he stood.

She raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”

“Well I am now...” he grimaced, before shaking his head.

“So I’m a year older which means our only option is to throw the biggest party the universe has ever seen,” he said, shrugging.

Nebula rolled her eyes. “The world is ending. This is no time for a celebration.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry sour puss but is there a better time to have a party? Earth is missing out on their greatest hero,” he said, placing a hand over his chest. “But you’re in luck.”

He grinned. “I could make a party in an empty room.”

Adaliah took her brother’s hand, pointing at the man of iron. He smiled at her. Their father was less enthusiastic as he stared at the stranger, whispering to himself.

Nebula frowned. “On what... universe do you consider it appropriate to be merry and drink after the death of a warrior?”

The children blinked up at him, waiting for the man’s answer.

“On the same universe where I’m celebrating my birthday without my fiancé, best friend, Happy, or...” he sighed.

The families stared at him, searching for hope.

“I just think it’d be a good distraction, okay? Besides I throw a mean party. And now we’re having a party in space? Couldn’t be better.”

“I don’t need a distraction I need to find Thanos,” Nebula grumbled.

He raised his eyebrows, smiling with a closed mouth. Just as easily he turned towards her, glaring. His eyes narrowed as his thin smile returned, an obvious falsity.

“Oh, do you know where Thanos is?”

She crossed her arms in response, silent. His eyes widened as he nodded. He looked manic, and completely unlike the human party favor he was pretending to be.

He raised his eyebrows.

“No? Great, cause neither do I. In fact, no one-“

He bit his lip, his eyes flickering over to the refugees.

They waited for him to finish, watching his every move. Adaliah licked her bottom lip, a nervous habit. His frustration faded away.

She just kept staring at him with those big, brown eyes- he could hardly see past them. He sighed, closing his eyes. He turned back towards Nebula, lowering his voice.

“Could I speak to you for a moment?”

She nodded and stood up, following Stark towards the pilot’s seat. He turned to face Nebula. His lips were pulled together and his brow was furrowed.

She glared at him.

“Stark, you are wasting my time and yours. I thought...” her nostrils flared as she sighed.

“I thought he meant everything to you,” she said, glaring. “Why aren’t you avenging him? Isn’t that what you do?”

He closed his eyes, sighing. She could practically see the smoke coming from his ears. He smiled at her.

“Y’know, while I adore you and find your personality an absolute delight, I do have concerns outside of you,” he said.

“What about those people,” he said, nodding towards the injured men, women, and children.

“They barely escaped with their lives. What do you want me to tell them? Huh? You think they want to be a part of tracking down the man who destroyed their planet and murdered their friends and family?”

She slammed a hand under his throat, glaring at him.

“What about my family?!”

Her voice echoed throughout the ship. Her firm mouth trembled and her eyes shined with emotion. She wanted him to have answers.

But he’d lost the talent long ago.

Gone were his days of certainty and firm voice. Now he was as shit out of luck as the rest of them.Maybe he should show Nebula some time, in a chart, just how screwed and clueless he was.

She stared at him, her chin wobbling every so slightly.

For once, she actually looked childlike. How old was Nebula anyways? He knew she couldn’t be older than 30. He wanted to crack a smile, make a joke- make her laugh.

But he couldn’t focus past the hand on his throat.

His eyes widened before he pushed her away. Her lip quivered ever so slightly before she straightened her shoulders and stood taller, as if correcting the emotion. He shook his head, running hands down his suit- was he disgusted by her?

“Get off me! Ge-get off me,” he mumbled.

She stared at him, silent, as he shook his head.

“Don’t... don’t do that.”

She saw a glimpse of the frightened man on Titan, before his face broke out into a grin. His eyes opened and with it his lies. His mouth curled into the side of his jaw, beaming. He chuckled before shaking his head fondly, as if his fear was nothing more than an old friend.

Perhaps it was.

“This package is closed, okay?” He said, smiling.

His voice continued to flirt with humor and smirks. And, like everything else in this man’s life, she became a joke. He paid her no mind, smiling as he spoke.

“And while I’m flattered, I have also been pre-bought, gift wrapped, and tied up with a bow.”

“Property of Pepper Potts,” he said, lifting his ring finger. “Out of luck, Nebula.”

She glared at him. Stark, this stupid human who believed the universe revolves around his every move. He and the man from Titan could not be the same person.

“Is your brain really so small and narrow? Is that how you see yourself? Desirable?”

His mouth quirked to the side, his eyebrows raising with the motion. He leaned back against the ship’s wall as he spoke.

“You mean my dashing good looks, established business, and ingeniously created super suit?”

She rolled her eyes. “I walked through fire for you, Stark. And now you’re saying you can’t be burdened to stick your head out for me?”

He sighed.

“Listen Stephanie Rogers, this whole moral elitism thing is getting old. And...” he frowned, looking her up and down. “Don’t you kill people for a living?”

“Exactly. So I’m going to do what I’m good at and kill Thanos,” she said, her voice a growl.

“He doesn’t deserve to be alive,” she hissed, as if he needed convincing.

She shook her head at him.

“How can you sit there and do nothing? The man with a super suit, whoever you are, you’re more disappointing than I’d expected.”

“Women don’t normally say that to me,” he said, frowning. “Of course like I said I am happily engaged to a beautiful red head. Not to mention she’s a CEO of a multi billion dollar company.”

He sighed- god he needed to stop doing that- as he ran a hand through his hair. He met her gaze then, and the mirth faded from his voice. He was getting too damn old for this.

“Look, there is nothing I’d like more than to...” he exhaled slowly.

His eyes filled with anger as he shook his head, thinking of something beyond Nebula and these ship walls. He crossed his arms as she stepped closer, edging into his person space.

“That’s a lie,” she huffed.

He pulled away from her.

“Excuse me?” He said, turning away from her anger.

His lips pressed together, a firm line.

He shook his head, his hands moving as he used sharp words and bitter tones. His smile was pulled across his face like a curtain, shutting out Nebula’s curious gaze. His eyes narrowed.

“Okay, fine. Please do explain why I don’t want to end this murderer.”

“You’re holding back,” she said.

“And just what am I holding back?”

His facade was slipping away with every word, that much was clear to her. He attempted another joke before rolling his eyes.

“So I’m not at the top of my game,” he said, shrugging. “I’m going through a... a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yes, Nebula.”

God would she ever let this go?

“I’m going through a thing,” he said coldly.

She looked up at the ceiling and muttered foreign words to herself. Her fists were clenched, her arms pulled against her side. Her nose crinkled as she shook her head.

“You say you want to catch Thanos but you don’t, not really. Because if you did want to catch this monster you would have been working with me by now. I saw you with the kid.”

He grit his teeth. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

His response angered her further. Her fist slammed into this ship’s wall.

“Well tough!” She fumed.

“Everyone has things they don’t want to talk about- those people you care so much about, those kids?! There used to be more of them, more of everyone on that planet. And now they’re dead!”

He said nothing, his chest rising and falling with her words. His eyes were staring at something she couldn’t see. His lack of focus only encouraged her anger.

But his mind was consumed by another emotion.

“ _Mr. Stark? I... I don’t feel so good.”_

_He threw himself at Tony, anchoring himself to the ground. Tony’s arms were at his side- shock and fear coursing through his veins. For a moment, he did nothing._

_But then he remembered how his arms worked and hugged Peter back, whispering words to him he wouldn’t remember._

“Stark.”

He blinked, shook his head, told himself none of this was right- repeat.

Where he had slipped into the memory, he was sharply pulled out. The cold metal of the wall pressed into his palms. This place was like waking up from a nightmare. He didn’t want to be here.

‘ _Then why are you here?‘_

Nebula was right, what was he doing? This ship- this stupid ship with its right walls and the hundreds of bodies on board, all breathing raggedly against one another. Everyone was clinging to a life they could have lost.

They could have died, they could have ended up just like- God what was he doing?! She stepped closer towards him, his face reflecting in the metal pieces her father had drilled into her.

“Doesn’t that make you angry?” She questioned, stepping towards him.

She was close, too close- she was too damn close! He could feel his arms pulling into his sides, his chest tightening. He couldn’t help the stupid worry he could feel building inside of him- like a shaky set of building blocks about to hurtle to the ground.

“Why aren’t you angry?! You lost your kid, you lost your planet- you lost everything! Why aren’t you reacting damnit-“

He pushed Nebula backwards, regaining the space between them. His eyes were dark, and they shifted from corner to corner. Her shouts and anger flashed in between his ears and eyes, pulling his emotion to the center of his mind.

“I am reacting, okay?!” He shouted, hitting his chest.

He ran a hand through his hair, inhaling and exhaling. He so desperately wanted to close his eyes, to block out the anger and the thumping of his heart. But he knew what he would see.

He blinked rapidly, ignoring the beat of his heart in his ears.

The kid’s face flickered in front of his eyes, until it was replaced by reality and Nebula’s eyes glared into his. She was saying something, his name maybe? God where was he? Was Pepper okay? What about Rhodey, Happy?

His heart skipped a beat, a jagged, unpredictable line which rose and fell with his every thought.

He wasn’t doing enough. He should have found Thanos by now. Nebula was right, he was a failure, pathetic- he was letting the kid down-

“ _I wanted you to be better.”_

“I’m just- I’m having...” he exhaled slowly, feeling the pressure building in his chest.

“I’m....”

His breath grew tighter and tighter, his lungs not filling with oxygen. Nothing was working- why wasn’t anything working? Every breath was painful and ended before he could inhale.

His breathing grew quicker, his body speeding to protect him from this attack.

He had leaned backwards- when had he moved? The ship’s walls supported his weight. His suit had repaired itself by now and he so desperately wished he could use his faceplate.

He wished Nebula couldn’t see the sweat running from his hair or the way his brow had pulled together and upwards, like a jumbled clock with broken arrows, all of which sent him fumbling from one direction to the other.

That’s exactly what he was doing on this ship, he was fumbling. He was scrambling for answers he was wasting time, letting them down, failing them. Nebula was right, Steve was right- Natasha, Sam, Clint, Wanda all of them had been right!

He couldn’t protect them. He couldn’t protect anyone. The realization came crashing down upon him like the saw in Afghanistan, the pain exploding through his stomach, his chest. God his chest ached, was it the arc reactor?

Why was he so easily compromised? He was supposed to be better, he was supposed to be normal. Pepper had warned him he should have known god- Pepper. What had happened to her?

“ _The end is near,” Thanos said. “When I’m done, half of humanity will still exist. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.”_

Was Pepper- _god_ no, _no no_ he could feel himself shaking. Why couldn’t he stop? He needed to move past this, he needed to-

“ _You need to look strong,” Rhodey said._

Was Rhodey- was he gone too? He gripped his hair between his shaking hands. He couldn’t take this anymore, this not knowing. Who else was- who was left?

“ _If you wanted to have a kid you wouldn’t have done that,” Pepper said, pointing to his arc reactor._

And now he never would. He would never have a family because Pepper was dead and he had let her die. Just like he had let-

“Hey, hey,” Nebula said firmly.

The change in stimuli hit him like a punch to the gut. He pulled to the surface, his face wet and his lungs burning like in the cave. He gasped and coughed and sputtered like a damn kid. The floor was smooth beneath his palms. When had he moved from the wall?

Nebula was crouching in front of him. Her palms were soft and cold, patches of metal covering her underlying skin. Her hands were on his red cheeks. Was she wearing armor?

He could no longer hear the families’ whispering.

“This will be over soon, okay? This is temporary. Whatever you’re feeling is temporary,” she said.

No it wasn’t. This ache between his bones, his lungs collapsing into his stomach? He had felt this before, he had lived this- he had wasted years of his life hiding from the world and creating his own monsters.

“Stark, you have to breathe, okay?” Her black eyes shone into his, steady in his chaotic nightmare.

“You look about to faint. And we just said we would have a party, remember?”

He nodded briefly, too weak to respond. His lungs burned and his head was filled with cotton balls. The room was cooler, quieter- something was different. Where were they?

Nebula noticed his roaming eyes.

“I moved us into a back room, okay? You and I are fine. We’re fine. We’re still on the ship. Raaguleeh is still flying. We can stay here as long as you like.”

He nodded lightly, uncharacteristically quiet.

Nebula didn’t like it. But at least he had looked at her. She was surprised he had listened to her.

One moment Nebula had been yelling, expressing anger and disappointment- the only emotions she had ever been shown. But his movements had become frantic and jagged. Then Stark had grown quiet and frightened, and Nebula had been lost for answers.

She could handle angry, she could yell and punch and hurt as easily as she could breathe. But this? Soft voices and laughter and... fear?

Weak and useless and all kinds of harsh words flowed into her brain. Emotional, weakness, parts which needed to be replaced- all teachings of her father. Emotion had no place in battle. But she wanted those things, by god she wanted them.

And this was how she found herself sitting by Stark’s side, telling him to take deep breaths.

“We can stay right here,” she said calmly

He chuckled, rather, he tried to but it was caught in his throat.

He shook his head softly. “You should- shouldn’t hav’ ta-“

He coughed violently, his throat burning. She shook her head. His hair was wet and his face was red and blotchy.

He stared up at her. Nebula, the only other survivor of Titan. It was just the two of them, and he had made a mess of things as always.

“‘M... I’m sorry,” he said.

Oh god he was apologizing. Nebula was embarrassed to admit she had no idea what to do with this father who made little girls laugh and cried for his son. This was uncharted land for her.

“It’s... it’s uh, it’s okay,” she said, nodding.

The man, the father was lying across from her. He was tired and sad and human. He hadn’t yelled at the children, he’d been kind to them. He had held a girl on his knee and told her stories.

For a long time neither said anything.

They were both too exhausted to discover what kind of silence it was, only that it was just that- silent. Or it was, until the steady thumps of the ship reminded Nebula that she had escaped with foreigners on the only working ship. And now she was with Stark, a stranger with a son.

“You were good with them, y’know,” she said softly.

He coughed into his arm, brushing his bruised cheek as he pushed himself up against the wall from the floor. His brow furrowed as he stared at her.

“What?”

“With the kids? You were really good with them, they liked you.”

He met her gaze for the first time.

“You... you think?”

“That little girl was looking up to you,” she said, her mouth quirking.

He’d never seen her smile before. She looked younger, brighter. She reminded him of the kid.

And with that his small sense of relief disappeared.

“I bet you’re a cool dad,” she said, smiling.

And for no reason other than his refusal to cry in front of this girl, he laughed. He laughed slow and soft, like sand running down an hour glass. She snickered until their laugher was one.

She moved from across the wall, sitting next to him as they spoke.

They asked one another about their home planets and what they liked to eat, their favorite pair of shoes (Tony had to choose between his favorite pairs of Salvatore Ferragamo lace up shoes; Nebula was confused by the question). Nebula told a story of Captain Marvel, a woman she had fought in the past. He discussed his love of vegetables smoothies, which no one ever believed.

They talked and talked until Tony had become so relaxed he felt his eyelids drooping. Nebula’s voice lulled off into soft, deep breathing. Her voice grew softer and softer until she was lying against the ship’s wall, dropping closer and closer towards him.

Nebula soon fell asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. She breathed in and out as he, too, felt the approaching sleep. He smiled at the sound of her life.

If he closed his eyes, he could even pretend she was Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think about Tony’s panic attack? A lot is based off of my own thought process from personal experience but I wanted to combine such feelings with his character and incorporate Nebula who I love.
> 
> What would you guys like to see?
> 
> TITLE CHANGE - Identities (I Don’t Feel So Good)


	9. Zari

“Help me!” The woman shrieked.

Her chocolate skin was a mix of dried blood, dirt, and hot tears. Her throat burnt with every scream, and still, she cried out. Her dark hair was wrapped in a thin, gray scarf which fell around her strong shoulders.

Her arms shook with pain as she clung to her daughter. Zari was hysterical, her sweet voice now a low scream as her small legs flailed against the city’s air. After the plane had crashed into their apartment building everything had gone up in flames.

Zari had noticed the plane first.

_“Look, Mama!” She grinned as she pointed at the large plane soaring through the air._

_“It’s an Airbus A380!”_

_Seven years old, and she already knew what she wanted to be when she grew up- a pilot. Viola smiled back at her daughter, indulging a child’s temporary fascination. At least, she had thought it was._

_As Viola stepped closer towards the apartments window she noticed how close it was flying to the city. The large, white wings of the plane cast a shadow over glistening skyscrapers. Zari pressed her face against the window, the sweat across her brow sticking to the glass._

_“Zari get back,” Viola said, putting an arm against her._

_Her daughter turned around as the engine roared._

_“What ma-“_

_The high whining of metal hitting glass was like nails on a chalkboard. It was the only answer Zari received. She screamed as the building crumbled and shook, easily throwing her small body to the side. She screamed for her mom as the plane wing cut into their kitchen. Her great grandma’s tea pot from Nairobi fell to the ground, and shattered._

_Smoke poured out of the next building as the engine of the plane hissed and burnt. Glass fell to the ground like acid rain._

_The plane spit and cracked like a grill, burnt meat in the summer. The plane was crushed into the building, its large wings destroying the organized puzzle of people and steel and glass inside. Anyone within the plane was surely dead._

_It was chaos. No one knew what had become of the pilot. Why had the plane suddenly dropped from the sky like the coins Zari threw down the mall’s wishing well? She remembered her daughter watching intently, her brown eyes widening as the penny rolled around and around until it inevitably fell down the dark hole._

_What would her eyes watch now?_

_Smoke filled their apartment, a broken plane wing the guilty culprit. Viola called for her daughter, but the little girl was nowhere to be seen. Screams ripped from the passengers with their dying breaths, their humming bird hearts roaring in their ears._

_She cried out through the smoke, the building quaking with her every step._

_“Zari where are you?!”_

A strong grip between a mother and daughter was the final barrier between Zari and the city concrete.

“Oh _god_ please someone help my baby!”

And the barrier was breaking.

Viola screamed into the empty air as Zari cried and pleaded. Her baby’s hair was scorched and her eyes red with heat and tears. Zari’s charm bracelet pinched her arm, and her nails dug into her wrist.

“Ma-ha- _ma!_ Don’t- don’t let me go- don’t let me go!”

Viola shook her head frantically, locking eyes with her little girl.

“I won’t let go, baby. Mama won’t let go of you!”

The building screeched as it crumbled further. Zari screamed hysterically. The ground was _so far down_ , taunting her.

Her stomach burned with terror, twisting and pulling like fire in her gut. Tears blurred everything but her mommy’s face, her big eyes and her big, white teeth which shook as much as the apartment building.

Viola was leaning over the ripped edges of their window.

Glass cut into her stomach as she pushed herself further out of the building. The pain ripped into her stomach and pounded against her skull. Viola knew she was losing too much blood; with each second she felt lifted and lighter, as if she was fading into nothing. The wind pulled at her scarf as she cried for help.

Where were the medics, where were the firemen?!

“Somebody _please!”_

Zari looked away from her mama’s gaping red mouth. She hated to see the tears running down Mama’s face- no, she didn’t hate them, but knowing they were there stole Zari’s voice away. Mama was supposed to wipe her face and make pancakes when she was sad.

_“We can’t be in our right minds when we’re sad, Zari,” she’d say._

The wooden spoon would swirl in Mama’s hand with years of routine guiding her every move. It was like whoever made Mama forgot to give her a third arm, and now Mama had to do all the extra work. It was one of Mama’s “quirks” as her brother said.

Jamarr kept Zari and Mama safe. He helped Mama pick out the apartment and lifted Zari up on his shoulders. Wherever Jamarr went was a secret, and it frightened Mama. Zari always asked for Jamarr’s stories, about the bad guys he fought, but Jamarr said she couldn’t know.

Besides, Jamarr said, he had plenty of stories about Mama and wouldn’t Zari like to hear some of those?

Jamarr said either Mama was born with that spoon in her hand, or God himself flew down and gave it to her ‘cause she never let it go.

_“We try and try, but sometimes our brains just can’t take no more,” Mama said, smiling at Zari as she whisked the pancake batter._

_“Our bodies need love, Zari. We need love, some people at different ways and different times. Y’know how Mama gives love?”_

_Zari grinned, throwing her arms upwards. “Pancakes!”_

_Mama nodded. “Pancakes.“_

Mama was the one who made pancakes, who hushed Zari’s fears. She said Zari could be whatever she wanted to be. Zari never needed to be scared cause Mama always knew what to do.

Zari didn’t want to see Mama’s tears, cause that meant Mama was scared, too.

She saw herself dangling in the apartment’s reflection, her limbs shaking in the wind like leaves on a tree. Zari stared at her own tear stained face. She didn’t see her hand slip from Mama’s grip.

She felt it.

*

Rhodey was flying through the city when he heard the screams. Thor followed close behind him, his red cape slipping in and out of the wind’s grasp. His muscle memory increased the suit’s speed, pushing him through the air and towards the burning buildings.

A woman had practically thrown herself off the side of a destroyed building, clinging to something. Rhodey flew faster and faster as the woman cried out. As his rockets burned hotter and hotter, he saw the woman was holding onto a little girl.

The woman trembled and cried before her arm disappeared, and with it, the little girl.

Her screams would stay with him forever.

Sharp, ear splitting cries which burned her throat until it bled pierced the air. Sounds  
ripped through her ears and pulled at her hair as she screamed. The air slipped through her fingers like water.

Zari was falling, falling, _falling_ and just as she passed another row of apartments- another crying boy- she slammed to a stop.

“I got you,” someone said, panting.

She was still screaming.

She looked up at the man in silver- War Machine Jamaar had informed her. His eyes were dark, warm, and focused on her shaking arms. Amidst all the chaos, her mind reminded her of the superhero cutout posters she had in her room.

“I-I...” She exhaled shakily, her breath cutting in and out like a bad radio signal.

She wanted to ask about her mama, beg for him to fly faster. Zari’s heart beat within her ears which made it hard to concentrate. A flash of red fabric slipped past them and her stomach lurched with its reminder.

Zari’s head was as sluggish as her mouth so she accepted the first words which came to mind.

“I have your picture in my room,” she whispered.

He nodded, smiling softly as they approached the ground. He held onto her tightly, the way Jamarr did sometimes when he came home. She wished Jamarr was here now.

War Machine began to speak as they approached the ground, mumbles of her mama and bleeding and _is there someone we can call?_

Zari tried to speak but all she could think of was how she had fallen, the sweat of her mama’s hand and then nothing. Where was Mama? She couldn’t have just disappeared.

What happened to her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m curious if anyone knows why Zari is important to the next few chapters. Let me know what you think!


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